Page 33 of Power and Possession

We ate in silence, but so much was conveyed without words. A tilt of the head, a biting of the lip. The tension and heat continued to simmer between us, and by the time the waiter came to clear away the plates, I knew what was going to happen before the night was over.

“Dessert?” the waiter asked, this time speaking in English for my benefit.

“Later,” Steele replied, looking at me darkly.

When we pulled away from the restaurant, I noticed we were heading out of the city rather than back to the airport.

As though he sensed what I was thinking, he cleared his throat.

“We’re not heading back to London.”

“Where are we going?”

“My home,” he said, accelerating now that we’d left the city limits.

Steele’s home was on a massive estate, easily a hundred acres. Trees covered the entire property line, and it was clear this was where he preferred to spend the bulk of his time. His mood lightened as we drove up the long gravel driveway, and he was practically giddy when he pulled the car into the garage.

Although it was dark, the manor house loomed in front of me. It was gorgeous, reminding me of some of the beautiful old stone mansions in New England. It sprawled on and on, and I wondered if he was often lonely, living in such a big house by himself. The more time I spent around him, the more I wanted to know how he spent his life before I came into it. His workseemed to revolve around emails and phone calls, and besides the party and when he had to rescue me from the Irish, he didn’t often leave the house. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was keeping tabs on me, or if he was just a loner by nature.

Another touch on the small of my back, and he led me into the house.

A mixture of old and new lay before me, melding together to create a design that was entirely Steele. The amenities of the house were all modern, right down to the heated floors, but the artwork, furnishings, and trim were antiquated. I could feel his eyes on me as I took in his manor; could feel the way that he silently waited for my approval. I’d only seen the hall, but it was magnificent.

“How can you ever leave?”

“I normally spend most of my time here. I’m only in London for business meetings.”

“And for kidnapping hostages,” I reminded him.

“For that too,” he said, a slight smile on his face.

“How long are we going to stay here for?”

Steele stroked his chin. “As long as we need to.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but with the way our relationship was going, I wondered if perhaps he would free me. He didn’t seem interested in revenge anymore, and I know he didn’t want to see me hurt.

Steele headed up the staircase, and I followed him, my high heels softly clicking on the opulent marble flooring. The first hall he took me down was covered with portraits, and, like the Harringtons, I assumed they were ancestors. He stopped in front of a door towards the end of the hallway and motioned for me to step inside.

Familiarity hit me like a runaway train. From the photographs on the walls to the comforter on the bed, it was all mine. Even the couch was the one I’d scrimped and saved for, and the afghan my mother had made before she died was resting in the same spot I left it in.

“I—when did you do this?” I stammered, shocked at thescene before me.

“This afternoon. I had my men pack up your apartment. You’re overdue on your rent, and I didn’t want you to lose your personal belongings.”

My eyes misted as I walked farther into the room, my fingers lightly stroking the purple afghan. My dresser was in the corner, and I walked over to it, pulling open a drawer. The scent of my fabric softener hit my nose, and I pushed aside my socks until I pulled out the last romance novel my mom had read.

“I’ll leave you alone to get settled,” Steele whispered, and he gently shut the door behind him.

Chapter Twenty

Steele

I unbuttoned my suit jacket and loosened my tie. I went to the minibar, pouring myself another scotch before I sat on the couch. I rubbed my jaw, my mind spinning like a top. What was I doing? Bending over backwards for this woman? When I heard the message on her phone from her landlord, I acted. Her things were going to be removed and she would lose her flat.

It was bad enough I kept her hostage, but at least now she had her things with her. I felt guilty about making her lose her job, the least I could do was to ensure she didn’t lose her belongings, either.

I still wasn’t sure what to do with her. Topher hadn’t made any contact, and none of my people had uncovered any information about where he was hiding. I thought for sure he’d make a move against me, but it still hadn’t happened. He probably knew what I was doing with his daughter, and his silence told me he didn’t care.

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